dealing with a near-empty
bottle of gin makes death of
this predator phrase of the day
an aberration justified as a fine
meal for its prey moreso than
an explanation – it wrestled
with reality: there’s no discretion
left standing when blooded
consequence stains bared feet
I won’t explain an innuendo you
can take wherever you’ve a mind
no-one climbs rafters of my being
bleeds into my conscience for free
you’re dead even if you commit acts
of treason to comfort me – it’s less
an ending anyway, much more a
tangled calumny of scales, he wasn’t
even angry when he died
© 18 Aug 2009, I. D. Carswell
Morelia spilota cheynei – Jungle Carpet Python
for what it's worth / i like this poem /
ReplyDeleteappeals to my reptilian nature / you had
me at the empty bottle of gin
It is a backward reflection written after consuming the gin! I normally don't mind carpet snakes unless they hang out too close to the chicken pens...
ReplyDeletebet the chickens don't much care for that neither
ReplyDelete